“What are you doing?” she snapped.
“Keeping you company. I saw you slip under here, and curiosity got the better of me. I had to find out what was going on.”
He drew his legs up. Both their heads pressed against the top of the table. Their knees touched. His trousers brushed against her legs, sparking a strange electricity.
Disconcerted, Janet shifted away.
“Who are we hiding from?” he whispered, casting exaggerated furtive glances first left then right as if they were spies on a mission.
“Nobody. Now go on. Get out of here. Leave me alone. Scoot,” she hissed.
“Are you always this grouchy?”
“Only when I’m hiding under a table at an event thrown by my new bosses.”
“Is your mom the problem? She’s a real hoot. I met her and some guy named Max Crispin.”
Janet rolled her eyes. “Great.”
“She seems like a very sweet lady.”
“She is sweet, just nuts.”
“I wouldn’t say nuts, exactly. A little too obsessed with your love life, maybe.”
Janet groaned. “She told you about my love life?”
“Or rather your lack of one. But don’t worry. Somehow I already suspected that about you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She frowned. Damn him for looking so adorable. She wanted to dislike him. She really did, but he made it impossible with his knowing grin and that naughty twinkle in his eyes. As a kid, he must have been hell on wheels. She felt sorry for his mother. Undoubtedly, he’d ran the poor woman ragged. And now here he was tormenting her with those manly good looks, his intriguing look-a-me clothing, and that intoxicating cologne.
“All work and no play...”
“Hush up. You know nothing about me.”
“I saw the inside of your condominium, remember. It’s pretty plain and unadorned. Not a lot of domestication going on there.” He nodded, grinning as if he knew all her dirty secrets.
Janet bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from smiling back at him. The last thing he needed was encouragement. Sternly, she pointed a finger. “Out.”
His I-gotta-have-ya grin widened, and he shot her with a dose of those warm puppy-dog eyes. “Come on, Jan-Jan. Don’t be like that.”
“Don’t call me Jan-Jan and I’ve already told you that I’m not interested in being friends.”
“Neither am I.” A suggestive gleam glimmered in his eyes, as provocative as dark hot fudge dribbled over homemade vanilla ice cream.
“I’m not interested in that, either.”
“No wonder your mother worries about you,” he murmured, leaning in close.
“Back off, buster.”
She could feel his warm, minty breath on her skin. It felt nice. Friendly. She didn’t like her response to the disturbing sensation. Her body heated from her toes and spread upward until she felt as if she were sitting in a simmering soup pot.
“You’ve got something on your chin. I was just going to dab it away for you.”
“I clean up my own messes, thank you very much.” She swiped at her chin with the back of a hand.
“No, not there.” He pointed. “A little higher, just below the corner of your mouth.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She scrubbed vigorously at her face. “Is it gone now?”
“Nope. If you’d allow me...”
Then before she could react, he kissed her.
Gage really hadn’t planned on kissing her. At least not here, not yet. Impromptu canoodling had never been his intention when he’d crossed the room to join her underneath the table, but there was something incredibly arousing about hiding with her. As if they were mischievous children sneaking off behind the barn to play doctor.
And there was something erotic about seeing this principled young physician caught in a compromising position.
Over the past two weeks, he had discovered Janet was independent, serious-minded, and dedicated to the point of obsession. She refused to let him help her with anything. No carrying heavy medical equipment for her, no letting him volunteer to see her patients when she felt overloaded, no fetching her a sandwich when she worked through lunch. She insisted on performing every task as if she were being graded on her autonomy. Apparently, she believed she had to do everything for herself or fail miserably, and she got kinda crabby when he suggested otherwise.
Her normal attire reflected her commitment to her work. In the office, she wore crisp, conservative styles. Long skirts, tailored jackets, high-necked blouses, sensible shoes. Nothing revealing, nothing that hinted at the fine body that lay beneath her clothing.
But tonight was different. Tonight she looked more sizzling than Gal Gidot in those I’m-so-hot-for-you-handsome, three-inch black spaghetti-strap stilettos. This softer, sexier side both touched and fascinated him.
He wanted to see more.
Her dark hair, normally pinned up on her head, mused and loose about her shoulders. The dress, a slithery silk number, hugged her curves and called to him like a siren’s song. Her lips, usually lipstick free, painted an enticing shade of red.
Gage knew he had seriously jumped the gun the minute his mouth settled on Janet’s lips. This was not a woman who leaped lightly into romantic adventures.
Not only had he jumped the gun, but he was back to making the same old mistakes. Trying to rescue helpless damsels. Except there was nothing helpless about Dr. Janet Hunter, and she did not need him to rescue her.
He was as nuts as her mother. He was certifiable. Face it, he was being led around by his hormones.
Her lips hardened to cement against his. She didn’t close her eyes. In fact, she was glaring. Those twin indigo orbs drilled holes straight through him.
Gulp. Okay, so it wasn’t the kiss of romantic stories. No pounding hearts, no fireworks, no birds singing, no bells ringing. But that was just because she was stonewalling. The chemistry was there. No denying the furious rush of pleasure surging through his bones.
Stunned by Gage’s impromptu kiss, Janet sat frozen for a moment.
What in the heck was he doing? Did he have any idea the havoc he was causing inside her? She would not respond to his kiss. They were colleagues for crying
